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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890270">Everything In Its Own Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkJediQueen/pseuds/DarkJediQueen'>DarkJediQueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fluff Bingo [33]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Fluff Bingo, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkJediQueen/pseuds/DarkJediQueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>His final year at college was shaping up to be the best thing that had happened to Stiles in years.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fluff Bingo [33]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Just Write! Fluff Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Everything In Its Own Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>Year</strong>: Post Series<br/><strong>Spoilers</strong>: Everything<br/><strong>Notes</strong>: Prompts come from the Just Write Discord Server's 2019 Fluff Bingo challenge. Bonus round for fluff needed during COVID-19 kerfuffle. For the prompt: Date Night<br/><strong>Beta</strong>: Grammarly</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles loved the smell of Peter's house. It always smelled inviting as he slipped inside of it after a long day at school. No matter that he had been living there for three months, Stiles was careful to make sure that he didn't think it was his home. He made sure not to ding anything or break anything. He tried not to flop on the furniture or fall asleep in the living room. That last one was the hardest for him.</p><p>Three years, Stiles had lasted in the dorms at Berkeley. He had lived through three horrible roommates and three years of not enough sleep during the week with his roommate keeping him up. Then he had arrived back at the campus to meet his new roommate and had called Derek. Derek had told him that he could make it. All werewolves were not territorial at all about living at college. They knew what to expect and what to do.</p><p>Then his roommate attacked him on the first full moon. It had been nothing more than scratches by the time that Stiles was able to stab him with the dagger that was under his pillow. The pain of it had been enough to pull the wolf out of his stupor, but the damage was done. The RA had already been called when Stiles had started to scream. The cops were called when Stiles had been seen by the RA. It was being called a psychotic break for the other fourth-year student.</p><p>Stiles refused to go back to the dorm. It wasn't that hard to just simply move to an apartment. Derek felt bad about it because he had been the one to tell Stiles that he would be fine. That no werewolf from another pack would hurt him. The other pack was more than contrite about it, but Stiles figured that there was something that Pack Alpha wasn't telling Derek. Stiles was going to figure it out as well. There were a few other pack members still on campus.</p><p>Derek had promised help was coming while Stiles was still in the hospital getting his wounds taken care of and dosed with enough antibiotics to kill any infection that would try and set in on him. The arrival of Peter was quicker than Stiles thought it would be. By a lot. Meaning that Peter had been in Berkeley already. The revelation that Peter had a house and had been working in Berkeley for just under three years had been a shock. Stiles knew that he had picked up his old job of being a lawyer but didn't know that he had done it in Berkeley.</p><p>"Everything okay?" Peter called out.</p><p>"Yeah, just drained."</p><p>"Then come in and sit. I made some hummus to snack on while I made dinner. I got out of court late, and so dinner won't be ready until late."</p><p>"Sure." Stiles dropped his backpack at the table that was in the living room for him to work at when he didn't need his desktop computer that was in the library. Peter didn't have an office, he had a library, and he willingly shared that space with Stiles. The living room table was for when Stiles didn't like being in the library any longer.</p><p>The kitchen smelled wonderful, the rich scents were deeper in there, and it made Stiles' stomach rumble.</p><p>"I saw you forgot your lunch," Peter said.</p><p>"I was supposed to be meeting with my advisor at the café at lunch, but they skipped. So I ate something from the cafeteria, and believe me, it was not nearly as good as leftovers." Stiles dropped down into the seat that was his at the island and pulled the plate of hummus closer. There were vegetable chips there to eat it with. It was healthy, but Stiles loved it, and Peter made it often for him. The vegetable chips were like chip-chips. But just large sliced veggie pieces that were good for scooping. Stiles saw that Peter had his own at the stove where he was stirring a sauce of some kind.</p><p>"So, how was the meeting?" Peter asked.</p><p>"Long and boring. They still don't like my thesis, but I don't care because others do. He's just jealous."</p><p>"And I agree. You seem tired."</p><p>"It's my long day, and then I had to wait another hour after class to meet with my advisor, or they would drop me even though I have not been the one skipping meetings. I show up, they just have other things they are busier with."</p><p>"Have you talked to someone about it?"</p><p>"That's the other reason I was late. I went to talk to the Dean of my area of study, and I'm getting a new one. I'll do self for a month while they figure out what the hell is going on and how many kids need to be moved over. The Dean hopes that it's just me, but they aren't holding out hope." Stiles grabbed a radish and ran it through the hummus as he watched Peter pour the sauce into a glass baking pan before he added in a lot of other things from dishes that were scattered all over.</p><p>Peter's cooking was enough to make Stiles never want to leave. He did okay cooking for him and his father, but a lot of it was the same things in different combinations. It was enough that they had been pretty happy, but Peter cooked a lot of different things.</p><p>The only thing that Peter had ever cooked that was the same was the weird casserole that he made the one time when Stiles had still been healing up. It was a favorite of Stiles' and Peter made it at least every other week.</p><p>"Ugh, you are making fancy good again, aren't you?" Stiles asked as he grinned to himself.</p><p>Peter didn't even turn around. "Not like I can really change your pallet from french fries and greasy burgers, but I'm damned sure gonna try."</p><p>Stiles hummed and dipped a carrot into the hummus. Peter had made burgers just once for him and had tried his hand at potato wedges that tasted like curly fries. Both had been a success, but neither thing had been repeated in the four months that Stiles had been living with him.</p><p>"Are you gonna make me drink wine again?" Stiles asked. He saw the glasses by the sink.</p><p>"Yes. Actually, I need to pour some out for you." Peter slipped the glass dish into the oven and set a timer before he walked over to the fridge to pull out the wine. It was a white wine, something that Peter hadn't had on hand at all when Stiles moved in.</p><p>Stiles held out his hand when Peter walked back over with a glass in each hand. The wine did nothing to Peter, but he loved the taste of it. Stiles was pretty sure that Peter just liked the snobbishness of it. Taking a sip of the wine, Stiles found that he actually liked it. He gave Peter a grin.</p><p>"I finally found one you like. I, at least, like it well enough."</p><p>Stiles nodded his head as he drank more. It was Friday, and he had nothing to do all weekend. He was ahead on his thesis and every single class that he was in. He would relax the entire weekend.</p><p>"Why don't you go get changed and take a shower? Might help you feel better."</p><p>"Sure." Stiles knew that whatever scents were clinging to him were upsetting Peter. It happened more than once, and Stiles gladly showered them away when he could.</p><p>The hot water made Stiles feel a hell of a lot better, and even though he had done nothing to get dirty since his shower that morning, he felt like he was washing away pounds of dirt. He felt lighter and happier when he was done as well. He slipped into a better pair of his jeans and one of the dress shirts that Peter had bought for him. It had been to make sure that Stiles wouldn't get them thrown out of Peter's favorite places to eat, but Stiles still liked them. They were soft. He didn't hate his other clothes, but he liked to be dressed up in these ones.</p><p>When Stiles came back out, Peter had his soft jazz music playing. It was a typical Friday night, where they both relaxed.</p><p>Peter was chopping potatoes at the island, his plate of hummus there beside Stiles'.</p><p>"What's that for?" Stiles asked. He dropped down onto the stool and pulled his hummus close to him. There was enough to fill him up for the hour the food was going to take to bake.</p><p>"Breakfast tomorrow. I'm going to bake them off tonight and then cook them again in the morning in a casserole type thing. Allows me to sleep a little longer."</p><p>"Sounds awesome. I don't think you've made that before." Stiles tugged his wine closer, finding that Peter had stuck it in the fridge and then filled it up as well.</p><p>"I haven't. One of the interns at the office brought it in this week for breakfast for everyone. Buttering up us all but it was great. I asked for the recipe. It's stupid simple. I can cook the bacon in the morning and do the eggs as well. I think you'll really like it. She told me that it freezes well and can be portioned out. I know you said you have several early classes next semester. You can take it with you and warm it up on campus when you get hungry."</p><p>Stiles nodded his head. He had done things like that before because he didn't like to eat right after he woke up. Grabbing the wine, Stiles drained his glass before setting it down. Peter had a curl to his lips at Stiles' plebeian behavior, but he said nothing. Grab the bottle of wine from the ice bucket and filled Stiles' glass again.</p><p>"So, how do you feel about eating dinner in the living room?" Stiles asked, just to get a rise out of Peter since he wasn't taking the bait with Stiles' drinking habit.</p><p>"What kind of question is that? Dinner is eaten at the table or island in our case. It's not eaten in the living room like animals."</p><p>Stiles raised an eyebrow at the words. Peter brandished the knife toward him, threatening him if he said a single word.</p><p>"You let me eat lunch in there! It's got a TV!" Stiles proclaimed. It was an old fight of theirs. If anything that was three months old could be called an old fight.</p><p>Stiles had kept his head down the first month. Not venturing out of his bedroom much at all. That is until Peter had dragged him out to sit and watch a movie with him one Friday night. Then the next dinner had been made before the movie, and Stiles was once again forced out. The library had been changed up to make room for Stiles' computer in there until Peter had realized that all Stiles had was his laptop. That's when the desktop had been made available for Stiles to make his own profile on. It had been easy to start to act like he was more than just a guest in Peter's house at that point.</p><p>"Lunch is not dinner," Peter said with a smile on his lips.</p><p>"Blah, blah, blah," Stiles said.</p><p>Peter growled at him, and it made Stiles laugh. Peter was vastly different than he had been before. He was happier, and while he wasn't any less sassy or snarky, he was content in a way he had never been in Beacon Hills.</p><p>Stiles watched Peter cut the potatoes for a while until he laid them on a large cookie sheet. He added some seasonings to them, and then they went into the oven with the rest of the food. Peter dragged his stool over to sit at the corner, right beside Stiles.</p><p>"How are you feeling now?" Peter asked.</p><p>"Better. The shower was a great idea. It was relaxing. Mostly."</p><p>"You carry all of your stress in your shoulders. You are going to sleep for shit tonight."</p><p>"I know. I don't have an appointment for another week at the masseuse, though."</p><p>"You actually pay to go to one of those? Why?"</p><p>"Um...There is no one else?" Stiles questioned. Peter had been the one to suggest it.</p><p>"I didn't realize that you didn't figure out that I meant me. Talia always carried her issues there as well, and while she healed, it was painful. Especially when she was pregnant. She spent Laura's pregnancy with her shoulder tense. I took a few classes on it from a friend in Beacon Hills and taught her husband what to do, Greg took to it like a duck to water. Here." Peter reached out and began to unbutton Stiles' shirt.</p><p>"Hey, hands off the merchandise," Stiles said as he slapped Peter's hands away. He frowned at the older wolf.</p><p>"Five minutes, and if you don't like what I do, I'll pay to have you go see someone tomorrow."</p><p>"Fine." Stiles gave in quicker than he usually would for anything just because his shoulder and back did ache. He let his shirt slip off of his shoulder and pool at his elbows. He closed his eyes as he heard Peter's stool scrape on the wood floor as it moved.</p><p>The first touch of fingers on his skin was soft. Peter was feeling around the areas on Stiles' skin for the worst parts. The joke was on him, all of it was pretty bad. Peter's hands were warm and gentle as they worked on getting Stiles to relax enough to where he was going to allow this to happen. </p><p>Stiles wasn't used to be touched, not by anyone but his father. Even the pack didn't touch him much outside a quick hug, and sometimes a nuzzle on his cheek. This he could get used to, though. Stiles had been to two sessions with his masseuse over the last few weeks, and each one had him feeling better, but he kept on getting tight and stressing. He wondered just what he could do to keep from holding his stress in his shoulders. It wasn't like he could lower his stress at this point in time. He was finishing up seven years of schooling in four years. He refused to stay where he was for longer than four years. He would rather just spend so much time stressed than he would be here for seven years. </p><p>The chime of the oven timer had Stiles jerking. </p><p>"Shush," Peter said, and he pushed Stiles over lean on the counter as he moved to the oven. He pulled the dish out and uncovered it to let it finish baking. Stiles watched him, resting his head on his arms. He smiled as Peter came back over to him and worked on him again. He didn't try and move Stiles from the position he was in. The feel of hands on his back pulled Stiles out of the near doze he had been in before that. He loved the feel of the hands on him, and he kind of never wanted Peter to stop. </p><p>It wasn't long before the timer went off again, and Stiles ended up having to let Peter get dinner dished up. He set the time one last time for the potatoes and then worked on plating up the meal. The wine was refilled from the second bottle that had been in the fridge. Stiles was feeling the wine just a little bit, but he didn't care. He was feeling better than he had in a long time. His back was looser, and he wasn't sure that it was just because he had been given a massage. It was Peter, who he trusted. Who had earned his trust more than the person that Stiles had been going to see. </p><p>"I'd rather just pay you to keep on doing that instead of the guy I go see," Stiles said after he wet his throat on the wine. </p><p>"I mean, I'd take the money that your insurance would give me for it if I thought you could convince them to pay me. However, I don't think even you can sweet-talk them into it. I would gladly do that for you a few times a week, though. It would more than make up for the happiness of having you here."</p><p>"Happiness?" Stiles asked. He was looking for the backhanded comment in the statement somewhere but couldn't find it. Things had been great between them, but nothing that made Stiles think that Peter actually really liked having him here. Peter was the loner in the pack. He would rather be on the edges, and according to Derek, it had been that way before, other than Derek Peter hadn't gotten along with a lot of the previous Hale pack. Though, given what Stiles knew that Peter had done for his sister, he could understand Peter not liking the rest of the pack if they treated him even a little like Derek's pack had in the first years of the pack being formed. Yet, Stiles had never treated him all that different once he got used to him. He had been pretty happy to have him around when things got tough. He made the worst suggestions, but usually, it at least got the others thinking. </p><p>Stiles had spent three weeks delving into the pack positions and all of the things that born wolves knew. Then he had started to teach every single person in the pack and kept that up over the years. Stiles wouldn't be shocked if when the pack was all back together, Stiles ended up in one of the three main spots. He just wasn't sure which one. </p><p>"Stiles?" Peter asked when Stiles had been silent for a little longer than he normally would be. It wasn't too strange, but Stiles knew that Peter had a few other things he was tracking as well.</p><p>"Why are you in Berkeley?" Stiles asked instead of answering Peter's question. </p><p>"My firm that I worked for before had an opening here, and since you were here, Derek asked me to take it since you were the only one here. At least the others had the advantage of a few others going to the school with them. Lydia and Danny are quite happy at MIT, and Jackson is at a school close enough to there. The rest of the pack is in LA. It wasn't hard for me to move here for a few years to make sure that a member of the pack was safe. Derek thought about it, but he didn't like leaving Beacon Hills without the Alpha. Not with everything that was going on. So I offered." Peter's hands were solid on Stiles' back, rubbing down his muscles now that most of the tension was gone from them. Stiles felt that it was like cooling down after a run. Peter's hands brushed all the way down to Stiles' pants, where his shirt had sagged enough to land that far down. </p><p>A few seconds later, Peter tugged up Stiles' shirt and draped it over his shoulders again before he walked toward the stove. As soon as Peter reached it, the timer went off again. Stiles smiled at that. It felt good to be cared for. He had missed that for a long time. He didn't mind helping his father with things growing up. His job was demanding, and after they had both lost his mother, they were both reeling. It had taken a long time to get things better. They had hit a good stride after his father had found out about the supernatural. </p><p>Stiles still hadn't moved from the position he was in before Peter came back to the island with a plate of food each. Stiles dug into the dish with relish as he watched Peter pour more wine. The gurgling of Stiles' stomach told him that he was hungry enough that the hummus wasn't enough of a meal, which Stiles knew. </p><p>The wine flowed, and Stiles kept on drinking it as he ate. The wine paired well with the meal, or at least Stiles thought so. Stiles knew that Peter looked at him often while they ate, but he didn't care. </p><p>"Movie?" Peter asked when the meal was complete. </p><p>"No. I need something more...active." Stiles could feel a little bit of something in his body that said that he would just fidget if he was left to just sit down. It wasn't all that often that it happened this late in the day, but he figured it was his body feeling better after Peter's massage. </p><p>"Ah, well. I think I know what we can do. Why don't you clean up the dishes, and I'll put the food up then meet me in the living room?" Peter asked.</p><p>"Sure." Stiles grabbed the plates and got the water running for dishes. They had set up the rotation of chores like that, and Stiles liked it. He didn't mind doing dishes, and even just watching them helped that feeling of needing to do something. Stiles heard the music change as he was drying the plates to put up in the cabinet before he pulled the cooking pan out of the sink and set it in the drainer. Everything else could air-dry overnight, and whoever was up first would put them up. They had a good system set up, and Stiles really liked it. He was afraid of what he was going to face when he left. He figured that Peter would head back to Beacon Hills at some point, but Stiles was going back to his dad's where there was nothing like this set up. </p><p>Grabbing the wine bottle, Stiles filled his glass with the last of it before heading into the living room area. Peter was fiddling with the sound system, and Stiles just watched him as he programmed something into the MP3 player he had hooked up to it. Stiles still laughed about Peter using technology more than his nearly a decade younger nephew. Stiles looked around to see that the coffee table had been pushed to the far side of the room. There was a large open area in the middle of the room. Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter as the song changed over to something that was soft and slow. He held out his hand, and Stiles took a sip of wine before walking over to meet him. He dropped the glass off on the stand where Peter had his sitting, and he slipped his hand into Peter's. </p><p>Peter tugged him close and settled a hand on the small of Stiles' back. Stiles knew that this was a dancing pose, but he had no clue where to put his hand. </p><p>"I heard you moaning your lack of dancing lessons as a child to make you graceful once. While I don't think it will help you actually be graceful, everyone should know how to slow dance, at least."</p><p>"Umm, where does my hand go?"</p><p>"You can put it wherever you want. I know that form isn't something you are going to pick up right now." Peter raised their joined hands up and started to move them. </p><p>Stiles looked down at their feet. Both of them were barefooted, which at least meant that Stiles wasn't going to smash Peter's toes; even if he healed, it wouldn't feel good. </p><p>"Eyes on me, just let your feet go where they want. You'll feel if it's too big or too small of a step, and your body will correct that better than if you watched. Just let me lead." </p><p>Stiles nodded his head. He wasn't sure where he wanted to look, so he chose to look at the side of Peter's head as they moved. It didn't take long at all for Stiles to realize that Peter was right. He was taking smaller and then bigger steps as needed; his body was learning just what was right as they swayed back and forth. Stiles had only gone to a single dance, and it had ended horribly, mainly because of the man in his arms, but this Peter was so vastly different that Stiles sometimes had trouble thinking of them as the same person. Hell, even Stiles was a hell of a lot better person now than he had been back then. </p><p>Peter slowly sped them up some to where they were dancing in a constant repetitive pattern. Stiles forced his body to respond to how Peter wanted him to, and he found that he was having fun. Peter wasn't talkative, but then Peer knew that Stiles talked with his hands, and that was asking for someone to get slapped in the face while they were this close. Peter's body tensed up, and Stiles knew that something was coming, and he looked at Peter's face to see the smirk a second before he was dipped. Stiles slipped his grip up on Peter's body to hold on tighter even though he knew that Peter wouldn't drop him. He saw the look of fondness in Peter's eyes, and he gasped. He had seen that kind of look before, and it wasn't on Peter. No, it was on his parents' faces when he had been younger, and they were looking at each other. Stiles didn't know what to do with that. </p><p>The dancing kept on going, and Stiles found that he was having a lot of fun as Peter showed him little bits of steps from random dances. Stiles' mind still swirled on what he had seen in Peter's eyes. His mind raced over every interaction, including what he would now call Date Night. Every single Friday was just them in the house and being together. Good food, conversation, and Peter's attention wholly on him. Their phones were ignored unless it was Derek or Stiles' father calling. </p><p>Stiles had no clue how long they danced with Peter's music going, but he wasn't nearly as tired as he should be. He kept his hand on Peter's back when Peter tried to step back from him. Peter's eyes crinkled, and he looked over Stiles' face. </p><p>"How long?" Stiles asked.</p><p>A few emotions passed over Peter's face, and there were a few things that Stiles could pick out, but one of them was Peter debating lying, but then his body relaxed and leaned in and pressed their cheeks together, pulling their bodies that little bit of distance closer. </p><p>"After the Nogitsune and before Derek became an Alpha again. You never looked at anyone during those times, so I just kept in the background."</p><p>"It's why you offered to come up here."</p><p>"Derek told me that he wanted me to do it as he knew that my affection for you would make sure that you were safe. None of us expected your roommate to go crazy and attack you. I nearly shifted in the middle of the room with a client when I was told what happened. I didn't even wait for someone to come and replace me in the meeting. I told the woman that my partner had been attacked and was on his way to the hospital, and she just told me to go. That you didn't even balk at moving in here had been a blessing. I didn't want to push my luck and have to fight you on it."</p><p>"You've been holding a date night without me knowing for three months. Peter, what the hell?" Stiles' tone was soft as he didn't want to freak out Peter. </p><p>"It wasn't conscious at first, but tonight was...an opening of sorts. Even before dancing. I couldn't help myself. You said you needed to move around, and dancing was the first thing that came to mind. To be able to hold you, touch you, scent you from up close when you are smelling content."</p><p>"And the backrub?"</p><p>"You were in pain. I couldn't not give it to you. I didn't take liberties."</p><p>"No, but I still really liked it." Stiles let the conversation drop off, and they just danced back and forth in place, swaying in time to the music. </p><p>Stiles felt himself stumble a little. He didn't fall because Peter kept a hold of him, but he knew that it was time for bed.</p><p>"Bedtime, Sweetheart," Peter said.</p><p>"I know. Cuddle?" Stiles asked.</p><p>Peter chuckled a little bit and nodded his head, his cheek brushing against Stiles'. </p><p>"You looked beautiful tonight." Peter finally released Stiles, and he kissed Stiles' cheek. </p><p>"You always look handsome," Stiles said. He could feel the blush arching up his face and neck. </p><p>Peter laid a hand on Stiles' lower back and escorted him to his bedroom. "Get ready for bed and then come to me." </p><p>Stiles nodded his head. He knew that Peter knew how he slept, they both came out in there little bits of clothing on bad mornings where coffee was needed before they started to get ready for the day. </p><p>Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed in a pair of sleep pants when Stiles came into the room in his sleep pants. Stiles only slept with a shirt when it was cold outside, and it wasn't that bad yet. The weather had been rather warm for the season. Peter looked up at Stiles and smiled. He didn't look nervous or anything, so that helped to settle Stiles' nerves. In the weeks after the attack, Stiles had ended up with Peter in bed with him, but the older man had always just sat on top of the covers and read while Stiles tried to go back to sleep, the nightmares staying away with someone in the bed with him. It had tapered off as Stiles nightmares had gone away ad he had dealt with the attack. </p><p>"Ready?" Peter asked, holding his hand out.</p><p>Stiles walked over and slipped his hand into Peter's and let the wolf pull him close, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist and rubbing his face on his stomach. Stiles felt loved at that moment. He just wanted to roll in Peter's bed and never leave. The love he had for the man had been slow to build, but he had never wanted to cross that line unless he knew for a fact that Peter wanted what he did. Peter played everything so damned close to the vest that Stiles was pretty sure that Stiles would never know what he wanted. </p><p>Peter held him tighter for a few seconds before lifting him up. Stiles was dropped onto his back on the bed, and Peter loomed over him, his fingers of one hand dancing over the marks on Stiles' body. The moles that Stiles had connected like connect the dots as a kid. Once with a permanent marker. It felt a lot better with Peter connecting them. </p><p>Stiles smiled as Peter leaned down to kiss him. It was soft and slow, with Peter keeping his body up and off of Stiles. </p><p>"I like date night," Stiles said as he settled with Peter half on top of him after the kiss ended. He knew that Peter could hear his heartbeat from anywhere in the room, but it seemed that Peter liked to have his ear over his heart. Stiles began to card his fingers through Peter's hair, liking that he was able to touch as much as he wanted. </p><p>"So about the third date rule," Peter said. </p><p>Stiles pulled on Peter's hair, making the man jump a little. </p><p>"Sorry," Peter said, but he didn't sound contrite at all. </p><p>"You'll be lucky if I put out before the of my tenure at college if you keep up," Stiles warned. He wasn't going to not have sex with Peter as soon as he felt comfortable, but it wasn't going to be seven months from then either. Still, it was nice to pull Peter's pigtails.</p><p>Stiles wrapped his arms around Peter as well as he could with the way they were lying. They wouldn't stay like this, but it was good for now. Just like every other step of their long courtship, everything in its own time. </p>
<h1>The End</h1>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I write fanfiction for fun. It's a hobby and a stress relief. I refuse to stress over my writing. What you see is what you get. Errors, plot holes, and all. Thank you for reading my story! </p><p>I can be found on MeWe <a href="https://mewe.com/i/beccaqueen1">here</a>, join me there and we can discuss my fics and whatnot.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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